WhiteDwarf : Catch your sword

WhiteDwarf: Moments of transformation. You bastard, you brought me low enough that I had nothing to lose by gambling on becoming something else.
WhiteDwarf: If you wanted to kill me, that was a mistake. If I was unworthy before, just know I'm very experienced in becoming new people under stress.
Chaplain: Flickers and sparks in the basin of my crucible. Perhaps there is some small chance something might survive the inferno.
Chaplain: Because I don't want to kill you. Catch, little ember.
WhiteDwarf: ...!

Your sword returns to your side. Even in a new hand's unfamiliar grip, the sheath feels exactly as you remember it.

Chaplain: I've never had a single thought about spilling your blood or taking your head. Do you think a gate craves to wound those who wish to walk through without a key? Do you think a cathedral dreams of purging heresy?
Chaplain: Libra rises at my back, and it lights my way through the darkness of the world! It defines who I am and what I do! And while I won't hesitate to take your head, it won't be for hatred or malice. It will be because of WHAT I AM!
Chaplain: I AM THE THRESHOLD!!